If I Lay Here
by BubblyFanatic
Summary: Running from an unforgivable crime, Clarissa Fairchild leaves her life in London to start over in Los Angeles as Clary Fray, an ordinary taxi driver. Just when she finally settles down and falls in love with the golden-haired Jace, her past comes back to haunt her. What happens when the London police is hot on her tail, and Jace finds out that Clary isn't who she says she is?
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone! It's BubblyFanatic. This is a story idea I've been toying with for a while. It's a little different from the other Fanfics that I've written, so please give me your feedback. **

**Also, the title comes from the song "Chasing Cars" by Snow Patrol.**

* * *

"Clarissa, I'm worried about you," Simon said through the phone.

"I'll be fine," she replied, chuckling drily. "It seems I have a knack for surviving. Keep me updated about London…and don't forget your promise to me."

There was a pause on the other end. "I know. I won't tell your parents anything."

"Good. I'll call you at… 7:45 am, London time. Simon, thanks for everything. I'll talk to you soon."

"Don't exhaust yourself," Simon warned, before hanging up.

Clarissa Fairchild rolled back her shoulders and stood up tall. _Here's your chance at a new life,_ she thought to herself. _Make it count._

A week later, she was sitting at the wheel of a canary yellow Honda Accord. Her new boss, Jordan, tapped his feet impatiently. After watching her adjust to the car for a few minutes, he glared at her, "Are you ready to go yet? I honestly have never met a cab driver as slow as you."

Clarissa swiveled and trained her green eyes on Jordan. "Do you know…" She immediately bit her tongue before she could finish her sentence. She internally reprimanded herself. She had been so close to saying _"Do you know who I am?",_ but that would have given everything away.

No. She had to suppress her pride. "…where the turn signal is?" Clarissa finished lamely.

Jordan gave her an exasperated sigh before pointing at the obvious lever. "What did you say your name was?"

"_Clarissa Fairchild," _she almost said, before stopping herself again. New city, new identity. "Um. Clary. Clary… Fray."

"Alright, Clary. You better haul your butt out of the parking garage and start picking up clients, or you might lose your job before you even begin working."

Clary quick rolled up the window, giving Jordan a nasty look when he wasn't paying attention, and hit the gas pedal. The car screeched as it pulled out of the garage.

"Okay. Okay," Clary repeated to herself, attempting to calm herself down. "The steering wheel is on the wrong side of the car, and you're driving on the wrong side of the road, but that's how people drive in America."

Having driven to the center of Los Angeles, Clary began cruising along the curb.

"Hey! Taxi!" A tall business man called out, waving his arm up and down. Clary slowed down and the passenger climbed into her car. "I need to get to the airport in fifteen minutes or I'll miss my flight."

"Los Angeles International Airport?" Clary asked for confirmation. The man nodded impatiently.

Clary thought to herself, trying to recall the map of Los Angeles she had spent the past few days memorizing. "Umm… alright. We're on Whittier Boulevard, so I'll take I-5 N and… turn right onto 4th Street?"

"Are you kidding me? You turn left onto 4th street. Do you even know how to get to the airport?" The man accused rudely.

Swallowing her indignation, she tried to explain calmly, "It's my first day on the job."

"But all I'm asking is for you to take me to the airport! The _airport_. You know, the famous Los Angeles airport that _everyone_ knows how to get to?"

"I'm sorry, I'll try to get you there on time." Clary immediately accelerated, thankful that LA traffic was at a minimum today.

16 minutes later, Clary arrived at the airport. The man was red-faced with frustration and anger but thrust the taxi fare into her hands before running off.

She carefully counted the money and noted sourly that the man was three dollars short. It wouldn't usually matter but… Clary wanted to bury her face in her hands. Penniless, friendless, and undoubtedly clueless, she was just a lost Londoner in LA. In an ordinary situation, Clary would have scoffed at the pathetic cash and just paid the extra three dollars for the man, but Clary hardly had any money to spare. As a matter of fact, she hardly had any money at all.

In an ordinary situation, Clary wouldn't even be doing this kind of manual labor. She would be riding around the city in the newest Cadillac sedan, driven by her own chauffeur. Clary shook free of her depressing thoughts and began to drive the cab around, searching for a new client.

_Those days are past you,_ she reminded herself harshly. She pulled by the curb to allow an elderly lady onto the Honda.

Clary braced herself for another angry customer but the old lady simply clutched her purse and asked to go to the local university. Clary turned in the general direction of the university but wavered at the next intersection.

Sensing her insecurity, the lady kindly directed her. "Take a right here and then the next left."

"Thanks," Clary mumbled, unused to needing help.

"Is this your first day as a cab driver in LA?"

Seeing Clary's nod, the lady's features softened with sympathy. "The people in LA can be harsh sometimes, but don't take it too personally. I'm sure you'll be a great driver when you get used to the city."

The rest of the day passed by, and Clary worked hard to keep her temper in check. Some clients were reasonable and reassuring, like the old lady, but others were just as cantankerous—some even more so—than the business man she had driven to the airport. By the end of the day, Clary's fingers were blistered from clutching the steering wheel and her toes were aching from stepping on the brakes, but she wanted to accept one more customer.

_The harder you work, the more money you will have, and the easier your new life will be,_ she reminded herself.

"Hi, where would you like to go?" Clary asked politely, as a man and a woman flagged her down.

Her question went unanswered. "I want to sit shotgun," the woman announced, opening the passenger door.

The man shook his head and clucked his tongue in faux-sympathy. "I don't think you understand. I _always_ ride shotgun." He pried her fingers off the door handle and sat in.

The woman gave him a poisonous glance before firmly grasping his shirt collar and dragging him out of the car. She sat in, smoothed out her dress, and smiled sweetly at him. "Jace, face it, you're sitting in the back today."

The man grumbled but sat in. "Only because I don't want to make a scene in front of the pretty lady," he said, with a glance at Clary.

Clary fought a blush and repeated, "Where would you like to go?"

"Venice Boulevard," she responded, before turning her attention to her perfectly manicured nails.

But Clary didn't start the car. She was gaping at the woman. Her customer was a beautiful, raven-haired woman, with sharp, eagle-like eyes. Her slender arms and manicured hand reminded Clary of her life in London.

"Excuse me," the woman snapped, noticing Clary's eyes on her. "Can you start the car? I want to get home."

"Isabelle," the man in the backseat admonished, "this is the kind of behavior that gets you dumped out of taxis."

Clary looked in the rearview mirror and turned her attention to the man, who was even more striking than the woman. He had long golden hair that was neatly slicked back. His eyes, a piercing shade of gold, suddenly darted to meet Clary's gaze. He chuckled arrogantly.

"C'mon, Missus Cab Driver. Stop gawking at me and watch the road. Although I must say, your Australian accent is quite endearing."

Clary flushed and revved the engine. "I wasn't looking at you. Also, it's a British accent," she retorted.

The man—"Jace", the woman had called him—simply laughed. "Sweet. I love British babes."

The woman turned at snapped at him. "Stop flirting and help me think of an excuse. Mom is going to be furious when we return three hours late."

"Isabelle, why can't we just tell her the real reason? Or do you think that she won't react well if I tell her that you went on a date with Meliorn?" Jace questioned, clearly provoking her.

Isabelle's lip curled with disdain. "Jace Lightwood, one more word out of you and I'll throw my stilettos at you."

Jace pretended to consider her threat before shrugging. "You wouldn't dare scratch my beautiful face."

"You pompous jerk!" Isabelle shrieked, reaching down to take off her high heels.

"Enough!" Clary interrupted harshly. She glanced at the two people wearily. "We're here."

Isabelle peered out the car window and nodded appreciatively. "How much?"

"$62.57," Clary responded monotonously. Isabelle pulled out the cash and left the car. Jace leaned towards Clary from the backseat. "Here's an extra $5. You earned it since you had to put up with my sister's petulance."

Clary didn't even have time to respond before Jace wiggled his eyebrows and said, "Although, if I do say so myself, you should pay _me_ for graciously allowing you in my company."

"If you think for a second that you're the hottest man on Earth, I'm about to shatter your heart with the truth: You're not."

"Don't hate me 'cause you ain't me," Jace smirked before getting out of the car.

Clary rolled her eyes and headed back to her apartment. As soon as she collapsed onto the couch in her barren apartment—it was a tiny two room apartment with only a sofa and a bed so far—she called Simon.

"Did I wake you up?" She asked, concerned. Her phone read 12:15 am, which meant it was 7:15 am in London.

"No," came Simon's relieved answer. "How are you holding up?"

"To be honest? Not great," Clary admitted. "I used most of my money on the rent for my apartment. As for my new job… let's just say that I don't know Los Angeles as well as I should."

She heard Simon's sharp intake of breath. "I wish you brought more money to the United States. I can transfer some money to you, through one of the international banks. I just got my paycheck today."

"No," she responded firmly. "I'll manage. Anyways, my father will be suspicious. I'm sure he's monitoring you 24/7 now that I'm gone."

The line was silent. "Simon?"

"Yeah um," he began hesitantly.

"What is it?"

"The police came by today. They… they asked about Michael."

Suddenly, Clary felt faint. "What…What did my parents say?" She asked breathlessly.

"They pretended not to know anything. Clarissa, this is such a mess."

"Simon, you could leave London and come live in Los Angeles with me. You know that when the police find evidence, they'll go after my parents, and you."

There was another pause. "I'll be fine. I don't have enough money to leave, anyways. Just promise me that you'll stay safe."

"I will."

They exchanged good-byes and Clary promptly fell asleep on the couch, haunted by nightmares about the London police.

* * *

She was starting to learn her way around the city. It had taken a few days of driving and lots of screaming from irate customers, but Clary was succeeding. She had gotten every customer home safely and on-time.

Furthermore, it was her birthday today. August 21. Ever since last year, her birthday didn't exactly hold good memories… but Clary shook her head to clear away the thought. Simon was taking care of the situation. For now, Clary could enjoy herself in America. She had just enough extra money to treat herself to some cupcakes—or maybe even a drink at the bar.

The clock in the car read 11:15 pm. The bakery was probably closed by now, so Clary resigned herself to a nice martini.

She drove to the bar, but before she could even park the taxi, a tipsy man had staggered out of the bar. He was wearing an oversized black hoodie that obscured his face. Teetering, he stepped straight into the line of traffic.

"Watch out!" Clary shrieked. Her hand slammed down on the transmission and she pulled up the parking brake, before scrambling out of her car.

Several cars honked as they swerved to miss the man. Clary tackled him and dragged him to the sidewalk.

"Get your boyfriend under control!" A man yelled out of his car window as he sped out of earshot.

Despite knowing it was just an offhand remark, Clary's ears turned pink. _What would my father say?_ she thought, ashamedly, before she shook herself out of her daze. _Remember. You're in America. Far away from London and your terrible father._

"Home," the drunk man moaned.

"Yes, okay, I'll drive you home. But you need to get into the car first."

"Whaa?" the man mumbled. Clary sighed and grabbed his arms, slowly pulling him into the car.

"Next time," she grunted, "lay off the Pringles. How can one man be so heavy?"

"Muscle weights more than fat," he slurred. Clary rolled her eyes. Even drunk, this guy was defending himself.

Ten minutes later, when he was finally seated in the car, Clary grinned with accomplishment.

"It's…so…hot," the man muttered, before pulling at his sweatshirt.

Clary grimaced but helped him undo the top two buttons and pulled off his hood. And she gasped.

The man had golden hair. She thought back to the man and woman she had driven yesterday—Jace and Isabelle—and immediately recognized the man. Although drenched with sweat and the smell of alcohol, the man was still undeniably attractive.

"Okay, Jace. Let's get you home."

Clary sank into the driver's seat and started to head towards Venice Boulevard, but she muttered a string of curses when the fuel tank blinked a warning. She was almost out of gas, but she didn't have enough money on her to fill the tank. Clary reached into her pockets and pulled out the $10 she had saved for a drink, before sighing. With the exorbitant gas prices, the two gallons she could buy wouldn't even make a difference.

She pursed her lips before turning her head to look at the unconscious man in her car. "I hope you don't mind, but we're going to my apartment."

Jace, fast asleep, only groaned in response.

* * *

**Thanks so much for reading the first chapter! I'd love it if you could PM me or review the story to let me know if I should continue. **

**~BubblyFanatic**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi everyone! Thanks so much for the wonderful reviews. Shout-outs to xoxNxox, Speshbubbles, Crazypoptartdude, and Jemily145 for the encouragement!**

**In terms of pacing, I want to grow Jace and Clary's relationship first before we get to the exciting drama. Please bear with me as I set up the story for the plotline!**

* * *

"It's hot," Jace repeated for the umpteenth time.

Clary, having dragged Jace up two flights of stairs, dumped him on her bed and collapsed onto her couch. "Yes, yes, I heard you, Princess. I'm sorry I can't afford the air conditioning to make you comfortable."

"It's hot."

She ignored him and fanned herself.

Jace stumbled out of her bed and turned his unfocused eyes on her. "It's _hot_!"

"Would you quit your whining," Clary sighed, exasperated.

She heard a thumping sound and she turned to see Jace try to pull off his shirt.

"Uh," Clary stood up, alarmed. "Don't do that."

He looked at her with golden eyes. "It's hot."

"You are such an idiot when you're wasted," she muttered, before helping him take off the sweaty t-shirt. She handed him a cup of water, which he drank thirstily.

Clary took a closer look at his face, and realized with a start that there were dried up tears on his cheeks. "Are you okay?" she asked hesitantly.

"Never better," he replied with a groan. "Actually, I'd be better if it weren't so damn _hot_."

She rolled her eyes. "At least you're sobering up."

Her phone rang. **Simon Lewis would like FaceTime…**

With a start, Clary realized that it was already 1 am—Simon would be worried sick, since the two friends had called each other at 11 pm each night.

The screen lit up with Simon's face after she tapped the green answer button.

"Clarissa! Happy birthday! Er… I guess your birthday already passed, but happy belated birthday then!"

"Thanks, Simon!" She responded brightly. "I had almost forgotten."

"You're 25 now… getting old," he said with a small wink.

"Yuck, don't even remind me. Besides, you're older than me."

"Only by three months and five days," Simon recited. This was an argument they'd had more than once.

"So what have you been busy with? How did you forget your own birthday?"

"I got… caught up with some business."

"Alright," he said suspiciously. "How's your job been?"

"Great."

"Wait," Simon said, pulling his phone so close to his eyes that Clary was given a magnified view of Simon's pupils. "What's on your bed?"

Clary turned around and saw Jace, who had curled up into a lump. "Oh. That's nothing," she replied quickly.

Jace stirred and Simon raised an eyebrow. "Did you adopt a dog? Looks like a Golden Retriever, but maybe the light is just playing tricks on me."

"Uh…"

"This is going to be one hell of a hangover," Jace muttered.

"It… talks…" Simon's eyes widened.

Jace sat up and peered at Clary. "Who are you talking to?"

Clary winced. "Simon—"

Her best friend cut her off. "Clarissa Fairchild! What in the living daylights are you doing in America?!"

He wrung his hands and slammed the phone down on its stand. Clary watched as Simon paced back and forth. "I never should have let you go all alone. That's it; I'm coming to find you."

"_Simon_. I'm fine. This is just a client."

"Clarissa, explain this to me: since when do taxi drivers bring their customers to their _bedroom_. Your mother would be so disgusted. Where did your British etiquette go? Oh my lord, I never should have let this happen," Simon continued rambling.

Jace walked closer to Clary's phone and Simon's eyes blazed. "Clarissa! He's shirtless too? What the hell are you doing?"

"You don't have to be so obvious when you're admiring me," Jace muttered, squinting at the screen.

Clary ignored him. "Simon, you never cuss…"

"I'm concerned about you! How can you cavort around with random guys when I'm here in London?!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Clary shouted back.

Simon flushed. "I meant," he stammered, "that I'm here in London, keeping an eye out for the cops and trying to sort your dirty mess out, while you're in America sleeping with conceited ogres!"

Jace chuckled, which only ticked off Simon even more. "What are you laughing at?!"

"Declarations of love amuse me," Jace responded calmly. "Especially when unrequited."

Simon turned beet-red but Clary just looked confused. "What?"

"And besides," Jace continued, "if anyone here is an ogre, it's you. Is that a uni-brow I see?"

Before Simon could retort, I interrupted them. "Simon, don't worry about me. I'm fine. Just keep London under control."

Jace hit the red button for me, his mouth contorting into a satisfied smirk when Simon's face disappeared. "I don't like that guy."

"Yeah well, apparently he doesn't like you either."

"I don't need you to tell me that," he said, dismissing me with a wave of his hand. His movement pushed him off balance and he staggered before collapsing again onto the bed.

"He's just worried about me," I continued, ignoring Jace's fall. "Don't be too harsh on him."

"'Worried'? More like, jealous."

He didn't give me a chance to ask him what he meant. "So. Thanks for bringing me here. I'll leave now that I'm sober." His speech was still slurred, but at least he was coherent.

"You're not sober," Clary scoffed. "You're just not _that_ drunk anymore."

Jace ignored her. "Thank you, sweet lady, for taking me to your apartment. However, I will not be performing any… services… to thank you."

The innuendo was clear. Clary blushed a deep cherry red. "I wasn't thinking of that, I just—"

"It's alright. You don't have to be ashamed of your attraction to me. Every girl falls in love with me."

Clary scoffed. "Yeah, right."

Jace tried to stand up, but he was dazed. "Uh, I changed my mind about leaving. Would you mind helping me lay down?"

Reluctantly, Clary approached him and he slung an arm around her shoulder. "Where to?" he slurred.

"You can sleep on the bed. I'll make do on the couch."

Her guest snorted. "Take me to the couch," he demanded, stumbling over the words a little.

Clary ignored him and pulled him towards the bed. But she misjudged the distance between her and the couch.

Her pinky toe hooked onto the leg of the couch and all of a sudden she was falling.

Jace went down with her. Their eyes met for a split second before Jace's forehead crashed into Clary's nose.

"Ow!"

Jace rolled off Clary but her left arm was pinned under her body. When she spun to face him, she found herself centimeters away from him.

He groaned and the tip of his nose touched Clary's right cheek. His golden eyes opened and stared into Clary's green orbs.

Jace was beautiful. Clary had noticed his sexiness before, but now that they were so close together, Clary found him almost irresistible. Again, she noticed his dried tears, and wondered what had happened.

"You're admiring me," he murmured.

And that broke the spell. "Get off me!" she shrieked. Clary rolled away from him, tugging her arm free forcefully.

She hid her face behind her arms, before peeking him. He was fast asleep. Letting out a relieved sigh, Clary was glad that she didn't have to go to any extreme measures to preserve her dignity. She inched towards him before shoving him onto the bed and lying down on the sofa.

When she was sure Jace was asleep, she called Simon.

"Simon?"

"Clarissa." Simon sounded weary.

"I'm so sorry."

"For flirting with American guys? Don't be," he responded flatly.

Clary took a breath, willing herself not to scream at her best friend. "It's a misunderstanding. Jace is just a random guy. I found him outside the bar, and he was so drunk that he almost ran into a car. I didn't have enough gas to drive him home, so I took him to my apartment."

"He's a 'random guy' but you just happened to know where he lives?"

"He was a customer. Of course I know where he lives. Forget it," Clary said crossly. "I don't know why I'm trying to explain this you. And I don't understand why you care so much."

Simon's voice hesitated. "I'm just… I'm just concerned for my best friend."

A silence passed through them. "Clarissa, I—"

"You're forgiven. Sorry for getting angry."

"Sorry for overreacting."

Clary smiled at her phone. It was impossible to stay angry with Simon. "Oh. I called to ask about the situation in London."

Simon didn't speak for a while, but this silence felt worrisome to Clary. At last, Simon spoke. "The Chief of Police, Hodge, found Michael's body today. They sent it to the forensics department for an autopsy."

"Clarissa? Are you still there?"

"Yes, I just… I just need to catch my breath. They found Michael's body?"

Simon's voice was worried. "Clarissa, it's best that you don't call me for a few weeks. Once the police get the autopsy results, our house will be closely monitored. I'll call you when the coast is clear."

Simon hung up, leaving Clary with an uncomfortably tight feeling in her chest.

* * *

Rough hands shook Clary awake, and for a few moments, she thought the London police was there to arrest her.

She opened her eyes in fear, but relaxed when she saw that it was only Jace. "Where's the water?" he moaned. "I was right. This is a killer hangover."

"There's a bottle of water in my purse," Clary murmured. "I'm going back to sleep."

"You sure you don't want to stare at me some more? After all, we got pretty cozy last night…"

Clary's eyes snapped open and she glowered at him. "You're just a filthy—"

"Anyways," Jace continued, interrupting her, "what's your name? I suppose I should know the name of the girl who is so interested in me that she'd get me drunk and then take me to her apartment."

"I didn't—" Clary protested again, but Jace clearly wasn't listening.

"Nice apartment, by the way. Have you ever considered getting more furniture? It's rather empty, with only a sofa and a bed."

Clary huffed. "It's not that I don't like furniture, it's just that—"

"Maybe you should get another job then. Being a taxi driver isn't exactly an ideal job for a girl like you."

"A girl like me?" Clary repeated indignantly. "What exactly is 'a girl like me'?"

Jace shrugged at her and glanced pointedly at her hands. Her slender fingers were free of calluses, and though the frequent taxi driving had rubbed a blister into her finger, her nails still carried evidence of chipped polish from a previous manicure. "You probably haven't worked a day in your life, until now. I don't know if being a taxi driver is an appropriate transition into… well, getting a job, and actually _earning_ your livelihood."

There was nothing Clary could say in her own defense, so she furiously changed the subject. "At least a girl like me can haul your fat-ass up into my apartment. I should have left you outside to freeze!"

To her frustration, Jace just rolled his eyes at her. "I'm not fat; you're just weak, Ms. Skin and Bones."

"Goldilocks."

"We're going by hair color now? Alright, Tomato."

"Potato."

"You're pathetic," Jace said. "And if you never tell me your name, I'm going to call you Bones for the rest of your life."

"What makes you think you're even going to see me again after today?"

"You're going to hunt me down sooner or later. All girls do it, Miss Bones."

"Alright, alright," Clary muttered, hating to give in to him. "My name is Clary. I might have told you sooner if you hadn't interrupted me every five seconds."

Jace considered her statement. "Sorry, I just didn't want to hear anything irrelevant to my questions."

"Get out of my apartment."

"No." Jace stood up and traced his steps around the sofa before sitting down next to Clary. "So I heard snippets of your conversation with the rat-faced boy last night. I guess your name is Clary Fairchild?"

A jolt of fear struck Clary's heart when she heard her last name. "No, no, no," she refuted immediately. "You must have misheard."

"Oh?" Jace didn't look convinced.

"My name is Clary Fray. Simon was just saying…he was calling me by my nickname, 'The Fair Child.' Because when we were little, I used to love playing in the local carnival, the fair."

"You're a terrible liar."

Clary's hands were shaking out of stress but she held them as steady as she could. "Okay, I'm just screwing with you. I'm not called 'The Fair Child.' Simon never called me 'Clary Fairchild', I think you just misheard. After all, you were really drunk."

Thankfully, Jace didn't question it. "Alright, Miss Fray. So you're from London?"

"Yeah."

"And you're probably wealthy, considering you're 25 and you just got your first job."

"Not exactly," Clary lied, but Jace gave her a pointed look that said "You might as well be honest with me."

When Clary didn't respond, he shrugged and continued on. "I don't get why you would leave London, one of the coolest cities ever, to come to the United States."

"Well, you don't know me," Clary responded coolly, eager to change the subject. "Why were you so drunk yesterday?"

It was Jace's turn to become evasive. "No reason. Just felt like getting wasted."

"Oh really."

"Yes, really," he snapped, unexpectedly.

"Fine." Clary backed off.

"It's time for me to go," Jace stated. "Thanks." Without a second glance, he jumped up from the couch and exited through the door.

Clary let out a sigh of relief—thankfully she would never have to see that guy again. At the same time, though, she also felt a little worried. What were the chances she would ever see him again? Sure, he was annoying and arrogant, but he was definitely a character… and maybe she had just been lonely, but she had enjoyed the one night she had spent from Jace. It was a nice feeling waking up to a person's company rather than to an empty apartment.

* * *

With no news from Simon, Clary was growing worried. What if the London police had found some incriminating evidence? What if… what if they were on their way to arrest her right now?

She gulped. _Simon, contact me soon to keep me updated! At this rate, I'm growing paranoid, _she mentally willed.

Maybe she just needed a distraction. A distraction from her menial cab duties and from worrying about London. A distraction like Jace?

Clary immediately shook her head. _No, _she furiously told herself. _I don't want to see an infuriating human like him._

_Yes you do,_ her heart gently reminded her. _He's hot and you want eye candy._

_Alright, he's excellent eye candy_, she conceded, _but his personality is repulsive._

_Either way, maybe just arguing with him will make you feel less lonely._

_Maybe. But I have no excuse to go see him._

She flopped down over the side of the couch, feeling pathetic and useless. "There's so much dust under the sofa," she murmured, peering under the furniture. "I should clean it out."

In the absence of a vacuum cleaner, Clary could only pull off her knee-high socks and swish it around under the sofa in an attempt to clear out the dust. Her first swipe was effective and cleared out a handful of dust bunnies.

Her second swipe yielded a glittering ring. She held it up closer to the light, inspecting it carefully.

The silver ring shined brightly under the fluorescent lights. On the front was an intricately carved letter "W", and on the back, a six-pointed star was etched into the ring.

"Hm, this doesn't belong to me," she murmured to herself.

_Of course it doesn't, you idiot, _her heart cried triumphantly. _It belongs to the __only__ other person who has been in your apartment._

And that's how Clary Fray found herself clutching the ring and standing outside Jace and Isabelle's home on Venice Boulevard.

* * *

**So most of you can probably guess at Clary's crime by now, but there's a lot more details to it than you might think ;) **

**Also, apparently the City of Ashes movie is getting delayed? What? Even though the City of Bones movie didn't quite meet my expectations, I was still excited for the next movie. Does anyone know the estimated release date of the new movie?**

**Review or PM me with your feedback!**

**~BubblyFanatic**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello everyone! Thanks to Jemily145, xoxNxox, and imdivergentshadowhuntertribute for reviewing!**

* * *

"I told you that you would eventually come hunting me down," Jace said triumphantly, a cocky grin covering his face. He ushered Clary into the living room and seated her on a pristine white couch. "It's only been three hours since we last saw each other, and you're back already."

Gesturing toward the coffee table, he politely asked, "Unfortunately, us Californians don't have a taste for British tea. However, we do love our coffee. Would you like some?"

Clary scowled. "Is that another ridiculous stereotype? Not all Londoners drink tea."

"Really. What's your favorite type of tea?"

"Earl Grey," Clary answered automatically, before realizing what she had said and frowning. "Black coffee is fine."

Jace looked mildly surprised but nodded. "Alright. So, why are you here? Give me a better reason than 'I just wanted to see your face, Jace.'"

Clary's stomach churned as she realized with dismay that he was right. "You may have a pretty face, but your personality is pure slime."

"A-ha! So you admit that I have a pretty face!" Jace winked at her. "I always knew you had a thing for me."

She ignored him. "I'm here because you left this at my apartment the other day." Fingers rummaging in her coat pocket, Clary quickly produced the ring.

He looked shocked for a split-second before adopting a poker face and snatching the ring. "Thanks," he said, as he quickly put the ring back on. "I can't believe I lost that at your apartment. Although, I'm not surprised. I don't remember much about that night except some rat called you in the middle of the night."

Jace walked over to the coffee machine, which had just finished brewing Clary's coffee, and handed her a steamy mug.

"What does the 'M' stand for?" she asked curiously, accepting the cup.

Jace rubbed the ring unconsciously. "It's actually a 'W', and it was my father's last name."

"But not yours?"

"You're awfully nosy," Jace accused, glaring at her.

"Looks like you two are getting along well," Isabelle remarked as she walked down the stairs. "Care to introduce me, Jace?"

"Isabelle, this is that taxi driver who brought us home a few days ago. Carla Fairy."

"Nice to meet you, Carla. How exactly do you know my brother?" Isabelle inquired smoothly, clutching her own mug of coffee.

"It's _Clary_," she corrected, giving Jace an evil glance. The perpetrator simply shrugged and gave her an innocent look, as if to say, "I didn't butcher your name on purpose. It's not my fault you're very forgettable."

Clary continued, "Your brother must have a very bad memory, since I told him my name just a few hours ago."

Isabelle's eyebrows arched sky-high. "A few hours ago," she repeated. "It's only 10 am, and Jace is usually never awake before 9."

Her eyes narrowed. "Jace, you brought another girl home?"

"Actually," Jace interjected, "she brought me to her home. While I was unconscious."

Before Clary could defend her dignity and her honor, Isabelle rolled her eyes. "I don't think you're her type. Clary looks like the type of girl who would go for… brown-haired, skinny boys who are into video games and such."

_Why does that sound exactly like Simon?_

"Don't be stupid," Jace frowned. "I'm every girl's type. And besides, your predicting has always been wrong."

"I'm _never_ wrong," Isabelle snapped.

"Children," a kind voice floated down from the stairs, "it's not even noon yet. Can I get some peace and quiet?"

A benevolent-looking woman appeared from the stairs and raised an eyebrow at the three young adults. "I see we have a guest."

"Mom, this is... Clary Fairy?" Isabelle ventured.

Jace snickered, "It rhymes!"

Clary shot him a poisonous look. "Clary Fray."

"Nice to meet you, Ms. Fray. I'm Maryse Lightwood, Isabelle and Jace's mom." The woman exchanged a firm handshake with Clary.

"Does anyone know where Alec is?" Mrs. Lightwood asked, gliding to the couch.

"He's at basketball practice," Isabelle supplied. "Mom, are we still going to the party at the Queens'?"

_Queen Elizabeth?_ Clary thought, confused.

Jace groaned. "I hate that party. Can we ditch it today?"

"I have the perfect dress to wear," Isabelle chirped, ignoring Jace's comment.

"Yes, that's right," Mrs. Lightwood said. "You guys should go. Not that I have any legal reign over you two, now that you're both 27, but my house, my rules."

"I would have moved out earlier if any apartments were available near my work," Jace muttered, but Mrs. Lightwood tactfully ignored him.

"Jace, you know that the Queens' party is an annual occasion that everyone in town goes to. I suggest showing up to the party with a pretty date. Make our family proud, okay?"

Jace's face contorted into a painful grimace. "I wasn't even planning on going! I don't have a date! And besides, Izzy doesn't have a date either."

"Actually," Isabelle replied gleefully, "I'm going with Meliorn. And Alec is apparently going with someone named Magnolia. So you're the only one left without a date."

"I'll just call Selena or something."

"Selena Queen? No. You can't take the _host_ as your date."

"Fine. Aline then."

"Aline's going with Helen, and you know it."

Jace groaned. "Kaelie."

Isabelle tapped her feet impatiently. "Kaelie's not invited. Selena and Kaelie had this huge fight over a guy last year, remember?"

"Well, there's no one left, besides the strippers at the local night club!" Jace said, exasperated, earning a look of disdain from his mother.

"What about Clary?" Mrs. Lightwood suggested helpfully.

"No, actually, I—" Clary tried to protest. She glanced at Jace, who had also snapped his jaw shut in frustration.

"I think that's an excellent idea," Isabelle answered. "Let me take you upstairs so you can pick out a dress."

Before she knew what was happening, Clary was standing inside Isabelle's humongous closet.

"This one? No, too big for you. This one?" Isabelle held up a strapless dress and glanced at Clary. "No, your boobs won't be able to hold the dress up. Maybe this one?"

Isabelle fussed through the dresses for a few minutes before Clary interrupted her.

"Am I being too blunt if I ask you why you're so eager to help me find a dress?"

Isabelle paused. "Jace is my brother, and even though we argue very much, I still love him. I don't like Selena, or Aline, or Kaelie, or any of the other girls he has dated so far. You, on the other hand, have not pissed me off yet. I'm giving you a wonderful chance to be with my brother. Don't blow it."

"Excuse me? I'm not some kind of expendable girl who you can just 'borrow' to escort Jace to some kind of frivolous dance."

Isabelle's only response was to thrust a sequined dress into Clary's hands. "Oh, and call me Izzy when we're at the party. We're supposed to look more intimate if you're with my brother."

The red, sequined dress had a sweetheart neckline and hugged all of Clary's curves. It ended at the middle of her thighs. "This dress is too small," she protested, but Isabelle had already found her a pair of black pumps to match the dress.

"It's even smaller on me, but I wear it out clubbing sometimes," Isabelle responded flippantly. "Take the dress and be back at four, so I have time to do your hair and makeup before we go to the party at six."

Clary switched out of the dress and grabbed the shoes before going downstairs.

"Find an outfit?" Jace asked in a bored tone.

"Yes," she responded tersely.

"What color? Izzy will make me match with you."

"Red. I'm doing you a huge favor by agreeing to go to this stupid dance with you."

"I thank you from the bottom of my heart," Jace replied sarcastically.

"What heart?" Clary shot back, before heading out of the door.

She slid into her cab, threw the clothes into the passenger seat, and drove home.

Jace watched her leave. "Cab 2601," he repeated to himself.

* * *

After a satisfying lunch at Panera Bread, Clary had driven home and parked her car before deciding to take a stroll to the public library. Logging on to her Gmail account, she noticed that she had one unread message.

"Mail: From Sebastian Verlac."

"Sebastian? Who's Sebastian?" she murmured to herself. Clicking the email open, she quickly read it:

"Hi Clarissa, it's me, Simon. I'm emailing you from my friend's account, because the police have been monitoring your parents and the staff, including me. To give you a quick update, the autopsy results have not come out yet. Apparently, some of the forensic scientists have gone on strike due to wage disputes, so it will probably be a week or two before the police get a lead. Your mother is very worried about you and has constantly been asking me where you are. I haven't said anything yet, but she'll eventually go to Jonathan, and find out that you stayed with him for nearly a year before leaving for America. I'll email you from Seb's account again if anything comes up.

Rissa, stay safe. I miss you. Simon Lewis."

_Good news_, Clary breathed to herself, letting out a deep breath. _No more worry, at least for a few more weeks._ She quickly typed up a reply.

"Si, I miss you too. Thanks for the good news. London's dangerous right now. I know it might seem suspicious if you leave the country right now, but if the police ever turn their focus onto you, just run. I'll find other ways to stay under the radar. Clarissa."

She clicked log-out before accessing her Facebook and browsing through the newsfeed. There was nothing out of the ordinary. After scrolling through a few random websites, Clary walked back home to her apartment to get some fresh air.

Laying down on her bed for a quick nap, she smiled. _London is safe. I have enough money to last the week. Life is good._

* * *

It felt like she had only slept for a few minutes when her phone rang. "Huh?" she answered sleepily.

"Clary! It's already 4:30! Where are you?" Isabelle's frantic voice came through.

"Sleeping," she answered truthfully, earning a loud string of chastising.

"It's not like you naturally look glamorous," Isabelle snorted. "I need as much time as I can get to whip you up into shape. Now get over here."

"Yes, mother," Clary replied sardonically.

Ten minutes later, Clary hopped out of her taxi and knocked on the door. Before her hand could rasp the door, it swung open.

"Hi, sweetheart," Maryse greeted, ushering her inside. "Isabelle is waiting for you upstairs. You don't even have to knock; just walk straight in!"

Clary cautiously walked up the elegant staircase. _Alright… upstairs… but which room?_ She thought for a moment, staring at the two white doors in front of her. The door on the left was closer to the bathroom. _That must be Isabelle's room, _Clary decided.

She leaned on the door and pushed it open—only to find Jace, shirtless, staring back at her.

He blinked. "Hi?"

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I thought this was Isabelle's room," Clary rambled, blushing furiously. She averted her eyes and left the room as quickly as she could.

_Good job, Clary! You get the award of the year for Magnet of Embarrassing Situations!_

"Clary! Are you there?" Isabelle called—from the door on the right.

"Yes," she grumbled, walking into the room. "Why didn't you pick the room closer to the bathroom?"

Isabelle's mouth twitched with the hint of a smile. "I'm guessing you walked into Jace's room? He spends more time than I do in the bathroom—which is saying something. Anyways, take this." The taller girl handed Clary a hairpin and raised a curling wand.

"Hold onto that while I do your hair." Clary felt like her scalp was being ripped apart by Isabelle's movements, but she obediently stood still. The movements were familiar to her—after all, she had had her own hairdresser when she lived in London.

After what felt like forever, Isabelle swiveled Clary's chair around so that she could see herself in the mirror. Her hair was curled in cascading waves. Isabelle had then further fixed up the hair by twisting it into a messy top-knot and strategically placing the glittering hair pin in the middle of the knot.

"You look fabulous," Isabelle grinned, clearly proud of herself. "Give me ten more minutes to do your makeup, and then you can go change."

* * *

Jace sat down onto his bed and pulled on a dress shirt. He didn't know why he suddenly felt very self-conscious that Clary had seen him shirtless—after all, plenty of girls had seen him naked. Which, perhaps, wasn't something to be proud of.

But his self-dignifying modesty had long been gone. After all, he boasted a fine six-pack and toned stomach, and usually didn't feel shy. For some reason, when Clary had walked in, and her eyes had gone wide at the sight of him, Jace felt the urge to turn away and throw on a shirt as quickly as he could.

The feeling was bizarre. _It's probably just because she's so… modest. Her entire aura is affecting me, _he reasoned.

**Wow so I'm upset that the City of Ashes movie probably isn't coming out any time soon, but oh well. Until then, I guess I'll just settle with continuing this fanfic! Thanks so much for reading, and please review so I can write the next few chapters based on your feedback!**

**~BubblyFanatic**

Jace pulled on a black blazer to contrast with his white collared shirt, and then put on a red tie to match with Clary. Five minutes later, after rubbing gel into his hair, he was downstairs.

"You look handsome," Maryse complimented, appraising her son approvingly.

"Thanks. Where's Clary?"

"With Izzy."

He took a seat on the sofa and turned on the TV to wait, since the girls would probably take a long time.

"Wonderful," he grinned. "Forrest Gump is on HBO today."

Just as Forrest bade farewell to his mother, Jace could hear a thumping on the stairs. He ignored it.

"Mom, look at how wonderful Clary looks!"

Jace heard Maryse's laughter. "Clary, honey, you look gorgeous. So do you, Izzy."

He ignored them, his eyes intent on Tom Hanks.

"Jace! Come and greet your date."

Groaning, he tore his eyes away from the television, and searched for Clary.

Her frizzy red hair had been tamed into beautiful curls. The red dress she was wearing was perfect for her and accented her curves. The black high heels made her legs appear slender and elegant.

"Hi," she said shyly.

Jace swallowed, forcing himself to remain calm. He had seen plenty of pretty girls, but Clary was the first _beautiful_ girl he had seen.

He chose to acknowledge her by nodding—after all, didn't chicks love that?

"Oh!" Isabelle cried in surprise. "I just remembered: I have the perfect ruby necklace that would match with your outfit."

She ran back upstairs and returned with a silver necklace with a modest jewel pendant. "Here, Clary, let me put it on for you."

"Um," Jace interrupted, clearing his throat. "I'll do it."

When Izzy raised an inquisitive eyebrow, he hastily added, "She's my date. I want her to help her look pretty."

Jace hesitantly approached Clary. She looked up at him with big green eyes.

"Um, could you pull your hair out of the way?" He asked awkwardly.

Clary looked down at her hands, which were clutching a purse and her cell phone.

"Don't be ridiculous," Izzy chided. "Her hands are full."

Jace gently reached up and brushed her soft red locks out of the way, his breath hitching. He unclasped the necklace and wrapped it around Clary's neck, accidentally brushing into her fringe. When Clary unconsciously reached up to tuck the rebellious strand behind her ear, her hand met Jace's.

"Uh, sorry!" They both said at the same time.

"Alright, the party is starting soon. Can we get going?" Isabelle complained, shooting Jace a look.

He immediately stepped back. "Uh, yeah. Let's go."

Clary followed him shyly. "Thanks for helping with the necklace."

"No problem. It was my pleasure." And for the first time with a girl, he meant it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks to xoxNxox, Jemily145, and from Ravenclaw for reviewing!**

**And, xoxNxox, Magnus is still very much a man! Magnolia is just his code name because Mrs. Lightwood is unfortunately not okay with Alec's sexuality :(**

* * *

"I'm leaving with Meliorn, so you two can get cozy in the back of the taxi," Isabelle said, winking.

"Oh, I can drive us there. It'll save us some money," Clary protested, but Jace shrugged her off.

"Don't be thrifty at a time like this. It'll look bad if I show up in my date's cab."

Clary felt a wave of shame wash over her, but she played it off. "Alright." Jace quickly hailed a cab and the two of them squished into the backseat.

Isabelle soon called Clary with her cell-phone. "Hey, Clary? Can you remind Jace to teach you about the party etiquette?"

"Party etiquette?" She echoed, frowning. "I thought you said that this was just an annual neighborhood party."

"Of course not! The _Queens_ are hosting it! It's a serious soiree. All of the wealthy people of Los Angeles—okay, not _Beverley Hills_ wealthy, but upper middle class wealthy—get together. It's the annual occasion for us to prove our status, so you have to know how to act."

Before Clary could protest, Isabelle hung up. Her eyes blazed when she heard Jace snickering.

"You knew this was one of _those_ parties and you didn't tell me?!"

Jace shrugged. "You would have found out eventually. Anyways, let me give you a few quick tips. When you're eating, hold your fork with the thumb and three fingers, and—"

"—and keep your index finger extended on the handle," Clary finished automatically.

Jace raised an eyebrow at her and she blushed, internally reprimanding herself. "Um, I just know that… from watching the _Princess Diaries_ movies," she lied. She couldn't let Jace know that she had been to thousands of these parties in England—as one of the wealthiest guests.

"Right. I guess I don't need to tell you about dining manners then. Um. Okay. So the hosts of the party are the Queens, Fletcher and Melanie Queen. They're really affluent because Fletcher Queen is the congressman in charge of Los Angeles, but he likes to throw these parties to get to know the city residents and convince them to vote for him. That's why mom doesn't like to attend these parties.

As for the young adults, who don't care for politics, it's a status party. You'll need to greet Fletcher and Melanie when we first arrive, but the _real_ host of the party is actually their daughter, Selena Queen. Everyone calls her Seelie. She's a really pretty girl with red hair. Kind of like yours, but hers is a darker shade of red. She has a terrible temper and she can be kind of scary."

_I should be able to handle her, _Clary thought. _I've dealt with snobby London girls who were pure evil._

"Oh, and my brother Alec is coming to the party too. He told mom that he's going with someone named Magnolia, but that's actually just his boyfriend, Magnus. Mom isn't exactly open-minded when it comes to sexuality. So don't freak out or anything, or Alec might get embarrassed."

"But the rest of Los Angeles is okay with it?"

Jace snorted. "Of course. Los Angeles has a big homosexual population."

_Hm. That's very different from London,_ Clary mused.

The Queens' residence was a twenty minute drive away from Jace's house. They lived in a huge mansion that rivaled the Fairchild Residence. The cab pulled up in front of a long red carpet that danced up a flight of outdoor stairs. Clary stretched her neck and saw that there were double French doors at the end of the carpet.

It seemed as if the entire Los Angeles population had congregated in this mansion tonight. Masses of people were streaming out of taxis and strolling up the stairs.

"Shall we?" Jace asked, politely.

Clary followed him out of the car. He gave a pointed look at his crooked arm and she took the hint, hooking her arm around his elbow.

It took a while for her to get used the black high heels that were shorter than the ones she was forced to wear back in London, but she was soon able to walk confidently. Jace and Clary elegantly glided up the steps, reaching the double doors.

A breathtakingly gorgeous red-haired girl was waiting for them. She had donned a beautiful olive green dress that provided a striking contrast against her hair.

"Jace!" She greeted, before looking Clary up and down with unveiled disdain.

"Hi," she said to Clary, with faux enthusiasm. "Do I know you?"

_This must be Seelie Queen. _"Clary Fray," she replied, ignoring Seelie's contempt.

"Clary…" Seelie said, trying the name on her tongue, and obviously not liking it. "Are you Jace's new… fling?"

Jace stiffened and shot a deadly glare at the woman. "We've been together for a few months, actually, and I love her very much," Jace snapped, wrapping an arm around Clary's waist.

"Really? Because I heard gossip that you were dating Aline Penhallow in July, right before she came out of the closet."

"It must have felt like months," Clary replied, sweetly, "because we've had such a wonderful relationship so far. I wouldn't trade it for anything else in the world."

Jace loosened his grip around Clary, clearly surprised that a docile-looking girl like her would snap at the very person Jace had warned her about.

"Oh, really?" Seelie hissed.

"Hi Selena! It is _such_ a pleasure seeing you again!" Isabelle chirped, with a handsome man at her side. She shot Jace a look and he returned it with a grateful expression.

"That's our cue to escape," he whispered, leading Clary into the ballroom. They slipped past hundreds of people carrying expensive champagne glasses. Jace nodded a greeting to most of them.

"You must know everyone in the city!" Clary observed.

"What can you expect? I'm Los Angeles' Golden Boy," he responded cockily.

They reached the buffet table, where a grand variety of scrumptious delicacies were displayed. Jace said something, his mouth moving, but Clary couldn't hear him above the ruckus.

"What?" she shouted back, pointing at her ear.

He leaned into her, his lips almost touching her right ear. "I said, the pork brisket is usually really good."

Clary couldn't stop the blush from spreading to her cheeks. "Thanks," she mumbled. Jace just winked at her.

She tasted the pork brisket, which was indeed delicious, before sampling the other foods. Before long, she was bloated. "I don't think I can even eat another cracker."

Jace chuckled. "I'll go get you a cup of water. Or do you prefer champagne?"

"Water is good."

Clary's date left her side, and she slowly walked around the ballroom, stopping to admire a tower of champagne glasses.

"Hello," a familiar voice greeted, her voice dripping with venom.

Clary turned to see Seelie leering at her. "Hi," she responded shortly, eying Seelie's companion. He was tall and burly, with mean-looking eyebrows that highlighted his tough features.

"So, how come I've never seen you before?"

"I don't expect you know everyone in the city."

"I do," Seelie snapped. Her raised voice had drawn the attention of a few people standing by.

Not wanting to cause any trouble, Clary responded, "I just moved here from London."

"Hence the accent, I presume. How charming," Seelie responded, in a tone that suggested she didn't think a British accent was charming at all. "And you started dating Jace as soon as you arrived?"

"Of course. We're in a very tight relationship right now." Clary noticed Seelie's tight lips and couldn't help adding, "We've even discussed marriage."

"Jace would never fall in love with someone like _you_," the woman responded, features contorting into an angry expression.

Clary shrugged. "I think you're just jealous that I'm Jace's girlfriend and you aren't."

That was the last straw. Seelie Queen hissed and snapped her fingers at her companion. The man stepped forwards and roughly planted a hand on each of Clary's shoulders, shoving her backwards.

Clary soared back into the champagne tower. One by one, the glasses shattered and a combination of glass shards and bubbly liquid rained down on Clary.

Luckily, none of the glass hurt Clary, but she was now dripping wet, standing center of attention in the entire room. The silence was deafening.

She opened her mouth, but her mother appeared in her mind's eye. _"You're in a fancy party, Clarissa. Don't draw too much bad attention."_

_So what? I'm going to tell Seelie off, and use as many vulgar words as I can._

"_Don't be silly, Clarissa. You might not mind the criticism and whispers, but remember that you're Jace's date. Don't put him in a bad situation like that."_

Clary pursed her lips and bit back her evil retort. Seelie had vanished in the crowd, leaving her accomplice standing in front of Clary.

_Don't retaliate. Don't make Jace look bad._

But apparently, Jace didn't care if he looked bad. He had come out of nowhere, holding two cups of water. His golden eyes darted to Clary before flickering back to scrutinize the man who had pushed Clary down.

"Raphael, you're a bastard," Jace hissed, dropping his cups. He strode up to the man and landed a solid punch across his face.

The other man staggered, before regaining his balance and aiming a punch back at Jace. Within seconds, they were engaged in a brawl, much to the dismay of the crowd.

"What's going on?" Selena demanded, walking in.

_As if you don't know_, Clary thought back furiously.

"Raphael, get off Jace. Jace, leave him alone."

The two men, suddenly noticing thousands of eyes on them, slowly stepped away from each other.

"Everyone, please enjoy the party. My bodyguard just had one extra cup of champagne to drink, and engaged in a friendly wrestle with Jace. Dessert is served!" Selena announced, successfully diverting attention away from the men.

Jace returned his attention to Clary and pulled her out of the ballroom, into one of the bathrooms.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concerned.

"You shouldn't have done that!" She retorted. "Everyone will be talking about how the perfect role model, Jace, got in a fight at the Queens' party!"

"Whatever. Are you alright?" His eyes searched her. "Did you get hit by any of the glass?"

"No. I'm just dripping with champagne." She bit her lip, thinking about her embarrassing fall.

"You're crying," Jace stated, watching her with shock.

"Hm?" She brushed the corner of her eye, and her finger came away wet. "Sorry. I have a habit of crying in frustrating situations."

To her surprise, Jace hugged her close to him. She was too short to place her chin on her shoulder, but she nestled into his chest, enjoying the warmth and relief from public scrutiny.

"I'm glad you're okay, but you should have defended yourself against Seelie."

"I didn't want to make you look bad."

"Yeah, well, _I'm _not the one covered with wine, and _I'm_ also not the one who's going to be at the butt of Los Angeles gossip for the next month."

_That's not good_, Clary thought with surprise. _I can't draw too much attention to myself._ So she made a split second decision. "That's okay, because I'm leaving Los Angeles soon anyways."

They had been sharing a warm embrace, but Jace now pulled away sharply. "What?"

"I might move somewhere else, where I can get a higher paying job," she lied smoothly, bitterly wondering how quickly she was gaining the ability to lie and tell tall tales.

"Oh," Jace replied, an unreadable expression on his face. He cleared his throat and looked at Clary again. "Raphael's an asshole," Jace spat.

Clary frowned when she saw that his eyes were blazing. "He was just following Selena's orders."

"Don't defend him."

"Don't hunt him down."

Jace returned her gaze. "Fine," he relented. "Only if he avoids pissing me off again."

"Why are you so mad?"

"He pushed you into a champagne tower!"

"You don't even like me."

"You're my date. I'm obligated to care for you."

"Well, thanks for the temporary concern," Clary responded, sounding bitter, though she herself didn't understand why.

Isabelle's head popped into the bathroom. "I finally found you guys!" she exclaimed, before backing up, eyes wide. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Not at all," Clary said, walking out of the bathroom. Jace silently followed.

"Okay. When we go back out in front of the crowd, just act calm and collected," Isabelle instructed.

Jace led the way, earning a stream of whispers when he entered the ballroom.

"That's Jace! He just got in a fight with Raphael!" someone whispered.

"I heard it was over a _girl_!"

"Since when does Jace ever take a girl seriously?" another asked in a hushed tone.

And then Clary walked in.

"That's her! That's Jace's date!"

"Who is she? I've never seen her before."

"She has a British accent, so she's probably a Londoner who just came to Los Angeles."

"That dress is _so_ cute. I think I saw Isabelle wearing it a month ago. Are they best friends now?"

Isabelle followed, coolly observing Clary's blush. "Clary! Let's go get some cake," she exclaimed with faux-enthusiasm.

"Um, yes, of course, Isa—" Clary said, before catching herself. "Of course, Izzy."

The two girls went off to the dessert table, while Selena approached Jace. "Hi, Jace! I'm _so_ sorry about my bodyguard, Raphael. I hope you guys are good."

"No hard feelings," Jace responded stiffly, before brushing past her. She glanced at him with an indignant expression.

"You aren't going to ask me to dance?"

"No. I'm going home."

Two days later, Jace was fidgeting in his bedroom, wondering why a certain red-haired girl was showing up in his mind every time he was idle.

Well, actually, _two_ red-haired girls: Selena and Clary. The champagne tower incident replayed in his mind over and over again. He remembered seeing Selena rush into the crowd, and Clary topple over. Selena and Clary had probably gotten into an argument, he surmised, and Selena had ordered Raphael to push Clary.

It wasn't fair that rich girls in this society, like Selena, had such an advantage over poor girls like Clary. Clary had to work to pay the bills while Selena got a weekly allowance from her parents that allowed her to host grandiose parties.

_How is Clary doing right now? I hope she's okay from her fall… what if she cut herself on one of the pieces of glass?_

_Don't be ridiculous, Jace, _he chided himself, _you checked her over and she didn't have any injuries._

_But what if she gets pneumonia from the cold beverages? That's a very realistic concern,_ his inner-self argued back.

_Face it, you just want to see her again._

_No. I just don't want a death under my name._

And it was decided: he would find some sort of excuse to see her again. But only to see if she wasn't sick or dying.

Jace toyed with his cell-phone before coming up with an idea. "Max? It's Jace."

"Jace, my boy, what's up?"

"Listen, I want to play a prank on one of my friends, a cab-driver."

"A cab-driver? Since when does the great Jace associate with taxi drivers?"

Jace pursed his lips impatiently. "Max, are you willing to help or not?"

"Alright, alright. What do you want me to do?"

"Call the Los Angeles Taxi Company and ask for Cab 2601. Then, when my friend goes to pick you up, just don't show up."

"Uh… alright. That's a pathetic prank."

"Just do it, okay, buddy?"

Max hung up, before calling back ten minutes later. "They said that the cab should arrive in ten minutes."

Jace jumped off the bed and ran outside. Max's house was across from Jace's, giving him the perfect opportunity to talk to Clary.

Pretty soon, the cab pulled up into Max's driveway.

Seizing his opportunity, Jace sauntered to the cab. "Clary?" he said, feigning surprise.

The girl eyed him. "What do you want?"

Jace smiled inwardly. She looked super healthy—and pretty. "I'm just wondering why you're in my friend's driveway."

"'Friend'?" she echoed.

"Yeah. This is Max's house, and he's on vacation… to Hawaii this week."

"But I got a call saying he needed a ride," she responded, completely bemused.

"That's weird."

"Yeah…" Her expression changed. "Well, I'm not going to waste any more time waiting for someone who's in another state. I'm going to drive back to the city and earn back the gas that I used up driving to your friend's house."

"Oh! Don't worry," Jace said, thinking quickly. "Why don't you take me… to the supermarket? I have some errands to run anyways, and this way you won't have wasted the gas!"

Clary raised an eyebrow at him but unlocked the car. "Sure. Get in."

As they drove away, Jace's cell-phone rang. "Jace, it's Max. I watched you from my bedroom window. Man, you should have just told me that you needed me to help you pick up a girl."

Jace glanced at Clary before turning away and whispering into the phone, "I'm not picking up a girl! I just… wanted to talk to her."

"Mhm," Max responded, unconvinced. "You're whipped, man. You've got the hots for her."

"Shut up!"

"Would you stop the whispering," Clary complained. "It's giving me a headache."

"I'll talk to you later," Jace spoke into the phone.

"Good luck with the girl," Max replied. Jace could practically visualize Max's dirty wink.

**School has been insanely busy, so I doubt I will update as much! Although, I don't think thaaaat many people have been reading this (thanks a billion to those of you who are following this though!) so at least not that many people will be too disappointed. Thanks, and I love you all so much!**

**~BubblyFanatic**


	5. Chapter 5

**I managed to update after all :P Thanks to xoxNxox's kind review!**

* * *

"Uh, do you want me to help me buy some groceries?" Jace asked hesitantly.

"Are you kidding me? Do I look like I have time to run errands with a client?" She shot back, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

With a start, Jace realized that she didn't look as healthy as he had originally thought. She had dark bags under her eyes and a tired expression.

"Has business been tough?"

"It's been the same, but my landlord raised the rent again, so I need more money. Anyways, I'm not in the mood to discuss personal finances with you."

"I'll pay you. Twenty dollars an hour. Just spend the day with me."

She glanced at him. "You must be incredibly lonely if you're paying that much for my company. But I'll take it."

Clary parked her cab and followed Jace into the supermarket. "How are you feeling?" Jace asked, offhandedly.

"I'm good," she responded shortly. She had been walking confidently but faltered with the people outside the grocery store began to whisper:

"There's Jace and the British girl again!"

"Are they, like, a thing now?"

"Well… ordinary friends don't go grocery shopping together!"

"Is she famous? Maybe she's a movie star. After all, Jace only goes out with the elites!"

"Let me Google her. Anyone know her name?"

"I dare you to ask."

"Oh god," Clary murmured, automatically hanging onto Jace's arm for support. _Clary, you messed up. You can't be the center of attention. Get out of there._

"Are you okay?"

"Not feeling so well," she mumbled in response.

He eyed the people around them. "I take it you don't like to be gossiped about?"

"Hey everyone! Shut up please. I'm just here with Clary so we can get some tomatoes. Now stop whispering."

That only seemed to fuel the fire. "Clary," a girl whispered. "I'm going to search that up."

Jace noted Clary's expression. Wrapping a protective arm around her, he steered her towards the vegetables section.

"This is not good," she murmured to herself. Jace picked up a tomato, inspecting it carefully.

"What's not good?"

For some reason, his question shut her up. Her eyes clouded over with worry but she blinked several times until the expression was gone. "That tomato is too flat. Get a rounder one."

"Just because it isn't perfect doesn't mean it won't taste amazing," Jace protested, but Clary ducked under his arm and reached on the other side of the stand for a perfectly spherical tomato.

"This one is perfect."

"Like you?" Jace teased, coaxing a blush onto Clary's cheeks.

"Shut up," she muttered back, turning her attention to the broccoli. "Are you done?"

"I thought I was, but now that I think about it, I need some broccoli and celery too."

Clary wrinkled her nose.

"What?"

"I hate celery."

Jace pushed the shopping cart past her. "But I love it."

After they finally picked up all of Jace's groceries, they checked out and left. Jace successfully diverted Clary's attention away from the gossiping girls.

"I'm taking you home," she announced, before he could ask her to accompany him to dinner. "I need to pick up more customers today."

"I'll give you another $100 if you stay home and rest for today."

"I don't need your charity," she snapped back.

"It isn't charity! I'm just helping my friend. Is there anything wrong with that?"

"Did I ask you to be my friend?"

"You, Clary Fray, are my friend, whether you want to be or not. You kept me company this whole day!"

"You _paid_ me to do it."

Jace rolled his eyes. "Nonetheless, you're still my friend. And maybe more."

Clary raised an eyebrow at him before turning away when she realized his sentence's implications.

"What do you mean?" she responded evenly.

"You're not only my friend… you're also… a major pain in the ass."

She swiped at him. "Get out of my car."

Jace was about to argue before he looked out the window and realized he was home—too soon.

He stepped out and waved goodbye, but she was already heading away, eyes trained on the road. Jace sighed.

* * *

He waited expectantly on his front porch. Clary's taxi pulled up at 3:00 pm, just like it had every single day for the past two weeks.

"Good afternoon," he said, sliding into her car.

"I'm starting to wonder when you'll get sick of having to pay me to be your friend."

"I have the money for it."

"I wish I didn't need your money," she responded, but her eyes flickered, suggesting otherwise.

"You're starting to like me. I can see it," Jace teased, grinning when she shook her head frantically.

"Not at all."

"Then I have to applaud you. It's been what, three, four weeks since we met? And you still haven't succumbed to my charms? This has never happened before. Except with Aline, I guess."

Clary stiffened imperceptibly, but started the car. "Really," she responded monotonously, her word floating somewhere between a statement and a hesitant question.

"She's lesbian," Jace responded, breaking into a loud chuckle.

Clary glared at him out of the corner of her eye and reached over to punch him on the arm. "Where are we going today?"

"Mariposa Zoo."

"I can't say I've been there before," she mused, taking a left turn. "I'll assume it was near Tuxedo's corporation."

"Tuxedo?" It was Jace's turn to stiffen.

"This rude business man," she clarified. "I drove him around a few times. He expected me to know my way around the city like the back of my hand, because he could not possibly spare any time to be late. He dressed up in this fancy tuxedo every day. I totally thought he was some big CEO or something, but turns out he was a _janitor._ Pretentious imbecile."

Jace couldn't help but laugh at Clary's indignant tone. "'Imbecile'? Who says that anymore?"

"We say it all the time in London. Let me be British," she retorted, a smile playing across her face. "Anyways, Tuxedo worked at some environmental company and I saw the signs for the zoo every day."

"I'm guessing he lives in the Plaza. Yeah, the zoo is just a few blocks away."

Soon enough, Clary and Jace had entered the zoo together. Jace had immediately dragged Clary to the Butterfly Pavilion.

"They keep all of the butterflies in here. We're allowed to walk in and observe the butterflies, as long as we don't hurt any," he explained.

Clary's eyes had widened with wonder as she gazed at the resplendent butterflies flying mere inches—_inches!—_around from her.

"They're gorgeous," she breathed.

Jace beamed, glad she loved it.

A bright green butterfly landed on Clary's arm, before crawling up to her finger. "What do I do?" she asked breathlessly.

"Just hold still," he responded, laughing.

He stepped back, watching Clary. She was like a young child who was just discovering the many marvels of the world. Her innocence was profound. He smiled as she giggled when the butterfly twitched on her arm, tickling her.

He wanted to kiss her.

"Watch out!" a young boy shouted as he hurtled through the pathway. The child raced through, his eyes intent on a pink butterfly floating away. He bumped into Clary, and like in a fairytale, she fell backwards, tumbling into Jace's arms.

He caught her easily and she turned, gazing into his eyes.

It was a magical moment. Her green eyes met his golden ones, clashing with an electrical spark. "I…" he started, but she had already pulled away.

"Sorry!" she apologized, before turning away to look for the green butterfly that had flown away when Clary fell.

"…love you," he finished in a whisper, before swallowing. Jace turned to follow Clary, who was now dancing in the grass.

"This is great. Thanks for taking me to the zoo."

"Thanks for coming with me."

* * *

A week later, Isabelle and Meliorn began to suspect that Jace had a serious crush on the British girl.

"Hey," Isabelle said, feigning sudden surprise. "I got a wonderful idea."

"Mhm?" Clary prompted, leaning into Jace in order to get a better view of Izzy.

It was times like this when Jace was glad for the cramped backseat of Meliorn's sedan.

Izzy, who was sitting in the passenger seat, craned her head to look at Clary, who was sitting directly behind her. Jace, sandwiched uncomfortably between Clary and the car door, shifted but didn't want to push Clary away.

"Let's go camping."

"Camping?" Clary echoed.

"Do you guys not have that in London?" Meliorn asked curiously, from the driver's seat.

"Uh. Well. I guess? My family just never did that kind of stuff."

"It's Friday, so we have the whole weekend. That's it. We're going. Let's go to Mount Laguna. It's just an hour away."

And that's how, before anyone could protest, Jace and Clary found themselves grasping three days' worth of clothing and on their way to the top of Mount Laguna.

Isabelle, as usual, had planned everything without asking for anyone's opinion, save Meliorn. She had grabbed a tent that she and Clary would share, while Jace was carrying the tent that he was to share with Meliorn.

"You're welcome," she announced, eying Jace from the rearview mirror.

Clary had fallen asleep on his shoulder, and he now realized that the smug expression he had been fighting to contain had been revealed after all. "Shut up, Izzy."

"Oh please, we've all seen how you look at her."

"Izzy, shut up."

"Leave him alone, Isabellie," Meliorn cooed. "He'll step up his game as soon as other guys start to eye his British chick."

The two co-conspirators cackled from the front seat. Jace raised an arm to punch Meliorn, but Clary shifted. "Are we almost there?" she asked sleepily.

Isabelle and Meliorn immediately shut up. "Yes," Jace said, shooting Isabelle a glare.

They piled out of the car. Jace grabbed his own backpack and took Clary's, earning an appreciative glance from Isabelle.

"Meliornnnnn, I forgot my towel," Isabelle whined, in a voice that suggested she was not sorry at all.

"Oh, that's too bad, baby. I guess we'll have to go get it." Meliorn's acting was equally unconvincing.

"Wait a minute," Jace interjected. "You're not saying—"

"Jacey-wacey," Isabelle said with a smirk, "I guess we won't be able to go camping with you guys after all."

"But, Izzy," Clary protested.

Isabelle silenced her with a stern look. "We drove you guys this far. At least have some fun, alright? We'll be back tomorrow."

Shocked, Jace could only stand there, holding two backpacks, as he watched Meliorn's Mercedes-Benz drive away.

"This is great," Clary mumbled.

Jace pulled out his cell phone. "Surprisingly, I have amazing cell service here. I'll just call mom and ask her to pick us up."

Clary leaned over and snatched his phone. "Don't. Izzy took the trouble of taking us here. We might as well have some fun."

She pulled him—their fingers intertwining—to the river nearby. "I bet I can catch more crawfish than you can."

"Wanna bet?" he replied, dropping the two backpacks. "Clary Fray, you're on."

Laughing, she ducked as he sprayed water all over her in his attempt to catch the tiny crustaceans.

"You are going to scare them all to London!" she screeched, dodging another torrent of water. "You have to be _quiet._"

"Why be quiet when I could get you wet?" He hadn't intended the innuendo, but it came out, and Clary was flushing furiously again.

"Don't be such a prude," he criticized playfully.

"I'm sorry for being part of the civilized and dainty London elite," she snapped back, grinning.

"Elite? Oh really, Ms. Poor Cab Driver?"

Clary froze for a second before relaxing. "That hurts, you know. After all, you're the one who had to pay me to keep you company."

"Not my fault you're just so gorgeous that I couldn't resist."

She made a face. "Jace, you make me sound like a prostitute."

"You aren't one if you willingly spend time with me—if you're not doing it for the money."

He held his breath as he waited her reply.

"Jace, you're a pain in the behind, but I think you're growing on me."

"That is the weirdest mental image ever."

Clary hushed him and waited for the water to calm. She gently picked up a rock from the stream and snatched up a wriggling crawfish.

"_Ha!_" she announced triumphantly, sticking her tongue out at Jace. "One to nothing."

Pretty soon, it was 5-0. Jace hadn't gotten the hang of catching the crawfish, but he was having a blast watching Clary concentrate.

"Alright, silly girl, that's enough," he finally said, after watching Clary scoop another handful of crawfish into Izzy's makeup bag. "If you add any more, they'll tear through Isabelle's bag and she'll be furious."

"Serves her right for leaving us here, stranded. At least we have each other."

Clary had said it nonchalantly, but Jace's heart fluttered. "Anyways," she continued, "let's build a fire and roast my catch."

* * *

After a hearty dinner of crawfish, rotisserie style, Jace found himself sitting under the stars with Clary.

"I still can't believe Izzy took off with the other tent," she mumbled under her breath.

Jace laughed. "Are you really complaining about spending a night with _the_ Jace?"

She shot him a look of pure evil. "Let's spend as much time outside as possible, so we don't have to cram together into that tiny tent."

"Whatever you say, Princess."

She exhaled with happiness. "The last time I sat out here to look at the stars was when I was with Jonathan."

"Jonathan?" Jace inquired sharply.

"My brother," she said, raising an eyebrow at him. "Why?'

"No reason," he said, covering up his jealousy quickly.

"I miss him sometimes."

Jace just nodded slowly, not knowing what to do. Well, he _did _know what he wanted to do: kiss her. But that wasn't going to happen.

"Jace?"

"Mhm?"

"Thanks for being my friend. I left everyone behind in London."

_Friend._ The word echoed in his mind, but he shrugged it off. "Uh, yeah, of course."

She sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder.

"Clary?"

"Mhm?"

He leaned in closer to her. _Well, Jace. It's now or never._ "You have really nice eyes," he whispered, until their faces were almost touching.

She gazed back at him and hesitantly raised her hands, brushing a lock of golden hair out of his eyes. "Thanks."

Jace looked down at her lips and kissed her.

Clary didn't respond at first, but her hands entangled in Jace's hair and she leaned into him.

"Whoa," he finally said, breaking off the kiss.

She looked away from him.

"Um. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—" he apologized quickly, heart wrenching at her pained expression.

"It's nothing. I just… I just didn't want to get too attached to anyone."

She pursed her lips before returning his gaze. "I… I think I love you, Jace."

"I know I love you, Clary."

* * *

**Review, review, review, because reviews make me happy and when I'm happy, the creative juices flow :)**

**~BubblyFanatic**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi guys! Thank you all so much for the lovely reviews! They made me smile, so here's a longer chapter for you guys :) Thanks to Thalia, Guest, DatFangirl, xoxNxox, MandyHerondale4, and Arcoirizada for the awesome comments! **

**Oh, and someone asked me if Clary was Spanish (since she kept saying "Si") haha! Sorry for the confusion, "Si" is just her nickname for Simon! It's not Spanish, but thanks for making me laugh :)**

* * *

And then things got awkward.

Jace was yawning endlessly and Clary was feeling light-headed herself. "Let's get the tent out," Jace suggested.

Clary agreed, and by the time the tent got pitched, the two adults were unsteady on their feet. They had woken up at the crack of dawn to make the three hour drive onto the scenic campground, and they were now both exhausted.

Forgetting her earlier vow to sleep far, far away from Jace (after all, a British girl needed to maintain her decency), Clary nestled into his arms. He embraced her. Their breaths became synchronized and night fell. Clary rested her head on Jace's chest, gently moving with the rise and fall of his heartbeat. He chuckled. "Clary, I could get used to this."

"Me too," she mumbled. "Jace…" she started hesitantly.

"Yes?"

"If I just lay here… would you stay with me?"

"Of course. Why do you ask?"

"Just… wondering. If everything changed, and I was no longer Clary Fray, would you still lay here with me?"

"I don't care what your name is, Clary. I fell in love with _you_, not your name."

She let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. "I love you too, Jace."

"I promise that I'll stay with you, even if the entire universe turns upside down."

Clary tilted her head up. "Isn't it a little too early to be making big promises like that?" she teased, a nervous giggle betraying her fears.

"Just because I only dared to confess to you today, doesn't mean that I haven't loved you for a long time."

His golden eyes flickered, catching on some moonlight.

"Mhm," she murmured, conceding. "I'm going to be honest. Jace, I didn't realize that I loved you until today."

She couldn't see his expression in the dark, but when he finally spoke, she could visualize his flippant smirk.

"Doesn't matter. You've loved me since Day One, and it doesn't matter to me that you only _just_ realized it. After all, you were never the most perceptive girl. You never even noticed my romantic hints."

"Hey!" she replied indignantly. "I'm sorry I couldn't see your 'romantic hints' in your awful jeers and teases."

Jace silenced her future arguments with a kiss.

When he finally pulled away, he smirked again. "I can almost see you blushing, Ms. British-Prude."

"Oh yeah, Mr. Arse-Face?"

"That's childish, Mrs. Jace W." Jace patiently waited for a few seconds, before adding triumphantly, "You're blushing again."

"You're purposefully pushing my British morals so you can say that," she accused, but he only laughed.

"Fine. Here's a chaste kiss then," he said, planting his lips on her forehead.

She turned her head at the last minute so that their lips met. "That's the one time I won't be British," she claimed, earning a chuckle from Jace.

"Not going to lie, I wouldn't mind you breaking your own rules once in a while. So does this mean… you're my girlfriend now?"

"Hm. I guess," she said, a smile playing on her lips. "And you're my boyfriend?"

"This was rather anti-climactic. I kind of wish I asked you to be my girlfriend in a more romantic manner but I suppose this will suffice."

"You did it under the stars, Jace. That's good enough for me."

He kissed her again. "Alright, go to sleep, Clary. We can talk more in the morning." She heard a yawn.

Clary fell asleep, still smiling.

* * *

Her phone was vibrating. Blinking groggily, she gently pried herself free of Jace's grip, kissing him gently on the cheek, and walked outside to answer the phone.

"Helloooooo?" She greeted, yawning.

"Rissa. It's me, Simon."

"Si," she acknowledged immediately, alert. "It's been a month since you last contacted me."

"I know. Things in London have been hectic. The forensic scientists discovered traces of the hemlock in Michael's blood."

Clary's breath caught.

"Clarissa, things are _bad_. Your mother bribed a few government officials and erased all trace of you—birth certificates, gym memberships, everything. Since you were homeschooled and didn't really get around the neighborhood that much, she's not too worried about people remembering you. As far as the world is concerned, you don't exist."

"Oh my gosh," she exhaled. "She wouldn't go to such extremes unless…"

_Unless Clarissa was in serious danger._

"Committing murder gets you a life term in prison, but I spoke to the lawyer, and he said that this case has a few exceptions. I don't remember the precise legalities, but… Clarissa… you could get executed if they find out that it was you."

Despite the situation, Clary almost laughed. "Execution is still a thing?"

"Apparently."

"Simon… what do I do?"

Her friend let out a shaky breath. "Clarissa, I wish this never happened to you."

"Believe me, I wish that every day." A sudden thought struck her. "Where's my father?"

"He's in Macau, gambling at the casinos. It's the only way for him to get out of the public eye. As far as London is concerned, he's been there for the past year, negotiating business deals. It's a miracle what a little bribery can get you."

"So my mother is alone in London?"

"Yeah."

"I can't leave her alone to clean up this mess. I'm coming back to London."

"Clarissa, are you even thinking? You legally don't exist anymore but that doesn't mean you have the bloody invincibility and immunity of a _ghost_."

"I'll survive. Have you heard from Jonathan?"

"He's doing well in Costa Rica. Jon's untouched by this fiasco—so far."

"Good. I'll catch the first plane to London. Please have Luke pick me up. That is… if he can be trusted."

"Don't worry about Luke. He doesn't know what you did, but he trusts your mother enough to keep his lips sealed. He understands that you can't be found."

"Okay. Then can you ask him to drive me home from the airport?"

"I will. Be careful, Clarissa. I told your mother I wouldn't let you do anything dangerous, but look at us now. You always get your way."

"Thanks, Simon. Sorry for putting you in a difficult dilemma, but I have to come back to help you and mother deal with this… issue. See you soon."

Clary hung up the phone and paced around. She needed to get to London undetected.

"Clary?" Jace greeted and Clary whirled around. Jace was wincing as the sunlight hit his eyes. He climbed out of the tent. "Were you on the phone with someone?"

"Yeah, I was talking to Simon. Some… things came up in London, and I have to go back."

"What?"

"I know. I'm sorry," she said, biting her lip. "I just… I miss my family."

"I'll go with you."

This time it was Clary's turn to be astonished. "What?"

"I've always wanted to see Big Ben and maybe catch a glimpse of the Queen's corgis. Besides, I have extra vacation days saved over from work, and… it'd be an honor to accompany you back to your homeland." He embraced her in a hug and kissed her.

She broke away. "Jace, I really need to go alone to see my family again."

His forehead creased. "Are you alright? Did something happen?"

"No! I mean, no, of course not."

Jace looked at her suspiciously. "Didn't you just say that 'some things came up' so you needed to go back?"

"Jace, I… I'll talk to Simon and see if he can make arrangements for you," she relented, wringing her hands.

"If it's such a big deal, it's okay. You can go alone," he bit back, looking frustrated.

_You can't just give in, or it'll look suspicious_, Clary reasoned regretfully. "No, don't worry. I'll call him now."

She turned away from Jace and walked a safe distance away, under the pretense that she was finding a spot with better cellular signal.

"Simon? It's me again."

"Clarissa? What's going on?"

Clary sighed. "Jace knows I was on the phone with you."

"Jace? Who's Jace? Is he the arrogant hotshot I saw when we Facetimed a while ago?"

"He's arrogant, but he's a wonderful person, Si. And yes. He didn't hear anything incriminating but he knows I'm coming back to London, and he wants to come with me."

Simon groaned, the sound echoing Clary's feelings.

"Si, I don't know what to do. What am I supposed to say? _Sorry, Jace, but you can't come with me. I'm going to London on official business—namely, I killed a man and I need to go back and somehow stop the authorities from searching for me._"

Her best friend didn't respond. "Simon? You still there?"

"Yeah, I'm here, Rissa. I'm thinking… it wouldn't be that dangerous. Your mom erased all traces of you, remember? You could just… use whatever alias you have now… and visit as a tourist."

"But what happens when I see Mrs. Whitewillow at the marketplace and she says hi to _Clarissa Fairchild_?"

"Your mother ran rounds telling all of the people who knew your face that you were in Costa Rica with Jon. I hope she didn't miss anyone but your mother is pretty circumspect in those matters."

Clary was stricken. "She's the most honest woman I know! How could she lie to them for me?"

"It's a white lie," Simon corrected. "You were in Costa Rica for nearly a year, remember? And we both know how much she loves you."

"I can't believe this. This is all a mistake. I shouldn't have run away in the first place."

"But you did, and now we're going to keep it up, okay? Now, if I were you, I'd get a haircut or something to alter my looks a bit, before returning to London. That way, if people like Mrs. Whitewillow ask, you can just say that you resemble Clarissa Fairchild. After all, none of them have seen you for a long time. You've been gone for over a year. It might also be a good idea to brush up on your karate. Have you been training?"

"No," she admitted. "I haven't stepped foot into a gym since I left Jonathan's place."

"So that's… Clary. You haven't exercised for over a months?"

"I haven't had the time!" she protested. "I'll go again soon, I promise. Anyways, what about a passport? I don't exist anymore, remember?"

"I'll text you a name, later. I think Sebastian has some connections."

"Connections with passport forgers?" she asked incredulously. "You don't find that suspicious?"

"He was with the mob for a few years, but he changed. I'll be cautious though."

"Don't text me, Si. Just call me. I don't want this stuff in the written records. Hold on, Si, Jace is coming."

She pulled the phone away from her ear. "Jace?"

"Hey Clary, I just called Izzy to ask when she was coming to pick us up, and I mentioned the trip to London. She really wants to come, Clare-bear, and so does Alec. Do you think you could make accommodations for four more people?"

"'Four'?"

"Izzy, Meliorn, Alec, and Magnus," Jace clarified.

"Oh… alright." She held the phone closer to her mouth. "Simon, can you book five tickets instead of just one? I have a few extra friends coming along. Oh, you need their information? Let me give the phone to Jace."

* * *

Jace took the phone from Clary's outstretched hand.

"Long time no see, Rat-face."

"Let's skip the pleasantries, since that'll be painful for both of us," Simon replied stonily.

"Trust me, it's painful just _speaking_ to you, and I don't even know you. All I know is that you're my girlfriend's weirdo British friend who I have no choice but to tolerate."

"_Girlfriend_?"

"That's right," Jace responded smugly. "Made it official last night."

"You—you _consummated_ your relationship?" Simon asked, horrified.

"What does that even _mean_?" Jace asked, bemused. He turned to Clary. "Sorry, I'm not completely brushed up on British formalities. What is consummation?"

She blanched. "I'm sure Americans use that phrase too, and you've just never heard it in a formal setting," she replied, dancing around the topic. She grabbed the phone from Jace.

"Simon, _shut up and do your job_."

"Clarissa. You have a boyfriend now?"

"Yes," she said impatiently. "Can you just help him and stop jumping to conclusions? And no, we did not _consummate_ our relationship. What kind of person do you take me for?"

Clary handed the phone back to Jace.

"Alright, Ratty. Let's start with Isabelle. Her last name is Lightwood, L-I-G-H—"

"I know how to spell 'Lightwood', thanks," Simon cut him off sarcastically.

Jace clenched his teeth and was about to respond with a snarky remark when Clary gave him a pointed glance.

"Alright. Alec Lightwood."

"Ok."

"Magnus Bane."

"Mhm."

"Uh… Jace. Jace Wayland."

Simon was silent. "How do you spell that?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you were the Spelling Bee Champion and I didn't need to spell _anything_ out for you," Jace gloated. "W-A-Y-L-A-N-D."

"Alright," Simon said, sounding slightly choked. "Any more?"

"Meliorn Fae. F-A-E."

There was a clatter on the other line of the phone. "Jace, can you give the phone to Rissa?"

"Rissa?" Jace echoed.

"My… best friend. Sorry, 'Rissa' is my nickname for her."

He raised an eyebrow. "Uh, okay… aren't nicknames usually based on someone's full name? How did you get 'Rissa' from Clary?"

"Jace. Just. Put. Her. On. The. Phone."

The golden-haired boy pursed his lips, clearly bristling at Simon's tone of voice, but handed the phone to Clary.

"Si?" she breathed, fighting to keep a straight face under Jace's gaze.

"Wayland. He said his last name was Wayland."

"I know, I heard." She let out a sigh of relief when Jace turned away to call Isabelle. "There has got to be a million other people with last names of 'Wayland'," she said, swallowing the lump in her throat."

"Of course," Simon responded, sounding unconvinced. "Maybe we're just paranoid."

"Maybe."

"Clarissa, everything will be okay. Calm down. Umm… okay. Seb told me the name of the passport forger near you, His name is Santiago, Raphael Santiago."

Clary gulped as memories of the burly body guard pushing her into the champagne glass tower resurfaced.

"Have you met him?"

"Uh. Yeah. I know who he is. I'll find him."

"Good. Also, what's your alias in America? I almost slipped up today in front of Jace and I forgot your name."

"Clary Fray. Is Jace suspicious?"

"I don't know. Just… watch out. And next time you decide to pick up a random boyfriend, it'd be great if you would let me know."

She picked up on Simon's hostile tone. "Sorry, Si, I know I shouldn't have gotten involved… but I can't help it."

"Just remember that his last name is Wayland," Simon replied shortly. "Be careful."

"I will. I'll call you as soon as I get my passport, and you can buy me a plane ticket."

She hung up and walked to Jace, who just got off the phone with Izzy.

"Isabelle and Meliorn are coming to pick us up in an hour. Let's fold up the tent," he reported.

As Clary helped Jace pull out the metal rods from the tent, she hesitantly asked, "So, you're full name is Jace Wayland?"

"Yep," he grunted, as he wrestled with the final rod. He managed to finally fold it.

"I thought you were a Lightwood," she mused, feigning calmness.

"They're my adopted family. I've been living with them for a few years now."

Suddenly, Clary didn't want to know the possible connection between Jace and the Waylands. She surprised him with a hug to his back. "I'm glad you're here."

"Hm?"

"You make me feel so safe. Thank you for that," she clarified.

He dipped his chin so he could look into her eyes. "I'll always be here for you," he said, pulling her into a deep kiss.

**Ehehehe I love Clace too much :) I'm thinking of throwing in some action in the next few chapters, so let me know if you have any suggestions!**

**~BubblyFanatic**


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